Phantom of the Fallen
by timydamonkey
Summary: AU Lancer had told his students to come to him for advice, but this was ridiculous.
1. Chapter 1

Phantom of the Fallen: _(by timydamonkey)_

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Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom, nor do I make any profit making this fanfic. I am a fan, and that's all.

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Author's Notes: The story is short and mostly written, so don't worry about agonisingly slow updates and short chapters. They'll be coming out fairly close together – shouldn't be any more than a week apart. Enjoy and please review.

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Chapter One:  


It was unusually quiet in the classroom. Normally, Lancer had to deal with children doing their best to defy him and appear 'hip' and 'far out'. The lack of noise was disturbing; it was as if everyone had lost all traces of life. He tried to hide the discomfort, but didn't think he was doing a very good job.

He supposed he should be happy at the semblance of normalcy that still nobody appeared to be listening, but it just irked him. Even in outstanding circumstances, it seemed, his class would find a way to ignore him. It was this irritability that prompted him to drop the book he'd been reading out of on the desks of one of his students to elicit a response.

"Foley! Please, be kind enough to tell everybody exactly what I have just been telling you all about."

The boy's stare was blank, his eyes red-rimmed. A similar response was present in his friend, Samantha Manson. Lancer sighed. Clearly, today there would be no victory for learning. He supposed he should forgive the boy, but he also believed that if you started making excuses now, you'd never stop. Still, he decided to take the heat off him.

"Can _anybody_ tell me?"

He could almost hear the crickets chirping.

The bell rang, and as if it was a signal for the end of the silence, a babble of chatter broke out as people collected books and wandered out of the classroom. Foley and Manson, Lancer noted, didn't speak, just walked out of the door, looking rather like animated zombies. They seem to be running on the bare necessities of everything, with no focus on anything.

Were they having an argument? It wasn't exactly the best timing, was it?

He closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't normally pay such attention to his students, let alone any in particular, but the news had concerned him for their well-being. At least they were in school, he supposed. Jazmine Fenton was not.

He opened his eyes again, looking to the door. There was no point staying in his classroom all day. He was determined to go and get some lunch, but something made him pause.

Standing at the door, looking quite lost, was a boy. He had white hair and wore a strange black jumpsuit, and something about him disconcerted Lancer. Perhaps it was the way he was staring into the classroom but didn't seem to be taking anything in, and his lack of direction was immediately obvious to anybody.

"Hey," he started, intending to ask what the boy was doing, but as soon as he began to speak the boy seemed to jump a foot in the air. The boy stared at his face, seemed to go even paler than he was already, and Lancer had the discomforting feeling that he was being scrutinised. He didn't have time to ask, however, before the boy just disappeared.

It was… very odd. One moment there was a boy standing there, and then the next it was as if he'd never existed. (It was oddly lifelike, he mused, in that one moment a person can be alive, and the next you hear that they're dead.) He shook his head; clearly he'd had too much coffee. People couldn't just disappear. It was inconceivable.

He walked out of the room, wondering whether he was more flustered than he had initially thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Phantom of the Fallen: _(by timydamonkey)_

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Author's Notes: Why yes, I have messed with the Danny Phantom timeline. It was necessary. Hope you enjoy the chapter – please review.

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-2- 

The best way to deal with loss, Lancer found, was to carry on your routine, uninterrupted, wherever you could. It was for this reason that he was pleased that Jazmine had been back in school and in his classroom, so that she could have familiarities as she struggled to deal with the situation.

Normalcy shouldn't really require any effort to be upheld, but this time, it certainly seemed to.

He hadn't been able to have his lunch, the previous day. It had been agreed that they'd try something new for dinner, something healthy – or for the students at least. Shamelessly, the staff had stuck with their diet of meat, meat and more meat. Requirements had allowed Samantha Manson's proposal to be accepted about changing the type of food served in the cafeteria (citing guidelines about how schools should carry healthy food), but these did not extend to the teachers.

The teachers were quite fond of bending the rules in such a way.

There had been some minor issues, however, such as the fact that many people in the cafeteria refused or profoundly disliked the only food that was being put on offer. A more serious point was the giant meat monster which, the leading ghost hunters in the town had assured him, was actually an evil ghost.

He wasn't inclined to complain after they'd captured it.

The Fentons had seemed as strained as would be expected, with what had happened to their son. He didn't have the full details – he wasn't sure if anybody did – but the explanation seemed to involve ghosts or ghost equipment in some manner, which perhaps explained the unexpected ferocity they had displayed towards the ghost. Of course, that could have just been the threat being presented to the children.

They'd just lost a child, after all. Lancer didn't suspect it would get much easier.

The mere idea of ghosts, however, was not a comforting thought in any way, shape or form, especially if they were as malevolent as this one had appeared. Lancer wasn't even certain how to identify a ghost; the lunch lady, as she had been called, had looked fairly human until the whole meat monster fiasco. Not to mention that it seemed ghosts had all sorts of powers, and try as he might to avoid it, his mind was slipping back to the disappearing boy from the previous day.

Was the boy a ghost? He didn't look as if he'd lived a very full life, and something about the memory of him was still bothering Lancer, though he could not explain it. He felt as if his personal belief system had just shrivelled up and died, leaving this fantasy of ghosts in its place.

It was disconcerting, to say the least, but he kept solace in the fact he didn't seem to be the only one with this feeling. He hated being caught unaware, but the idea that he wasn't alone in this was a strange comfort, and one which Lancer had no intention of dwelling on.

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The boy was back. 

He'd noticed with the feeling that he was being watched. That, he supposed, was almost a supernatural sense in itself. After looking around the classroom and seeing nobody, he'd chanced a glance at the door, and the boy was there. He seemed to have stopped looking at Lancer, though, and his gaze was fixed on Sam and Tucker, who seemed to be in a silent form of mourning.

If mourning had been the reason for the silence the previous day, it was already being forgotten about. Lancer couldn't quite say that it was back to normal levels of noise; however, there was _something_ there. It seemed as if people weren't being as ignorant either today, though that wasn't saying much, as the percentage of the class who appeared to be listening was still far too low.

His tactics the previous lesson hadn't worked, and so this time he'd come up with something different. "Read chapter 12," he informed the class steadily, "by next lesson. If you do not, you'll find yourself with an essay on the importance of listening in class." There were groans and nods from a number of students (clearly _they_ had been listening), but the majority remained unperturbed. Lancer smiled to himself. Let them be caught out.

This time, as the bell rang, his gaze flickered back to where the boy had been, wondering half-heartedly why nobody had seen him the previous day, but he was nowhere in sight. The class left the room, and the boy was back. He was still watching Manson and Foley steadily, and for a moment looked as if he would follow them, when he visibly stopped himself and turned to look at Lancer.

For a moment, Lancer couldn't breathe, as he'd had an uneasy revelation, now knowing why the boy had been bothering him so much. It was the way he looked so familiar.

"_Chicken Soup for the Soul! _Fenton?" Lancer asked.


	3. Chapter 3

Phantom of the Fallen: _(by timydamonkey)_

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Author's Notes: In which we learn this may not be as AU as some of you think. :) Reviews appreciated.

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-3- 

The boy twitched nervously and responded, "Who? I don't know what you're talking about." His shaking made Lancer have doubts to the truth of this statement, and he filed them away for later use.

"Sorry," Lancer said into the silence. "You reminded me of a student of mine. He passed away a few days ago."

"Oh?" asked the boy curiously.

"Yes," Lancer agreed, wondering if people would hear him and think he was going crazy, considering the disappearing act the kid seemed fond of pulling. "I hear it was some sort of accident. I don't know the details."

"Couldn't you find out?" pressed the boy. "I mean, if you wanted to. Nobody's saying anything."

"I consider it a breach of privacy, not to mention the grieving," he said, sitting back heavily in the chair behind his desk and staring at the boy. "Why are you so interested? Surely this isn't your concern?"

The boy blushed, looking away. Lancer had a moment of doubt about whether or not this boy _could_ be a ghost, because a ghost blushing just wasn't possible in his mind, but neither had ghosts been until the previous day, so he conceded the point.

"I was just… curious," the boy muttered. "Actually, I was wondering… about the funeral."

"The funeral?" echoed Lancer, his face showing his surprise. "I've heard nothing about a funeral yet, though you're right, I suppose there must be one…"

The boy shifted uncomfortably. The behaviour was decidedly odd, Lancer thought, and could definitely do with being looked into.

"Could you look into it?" the boy said suddenly, and Lancer blinked as the question seemed to come out of nowhere, not to mention the one who was asking him to find out…

"You're a ghost, aren't you?" he asked, and the boy did nothing for a moment before nodding resignedly, allowing Lancer to continue with his train of thought. "Surely you're in a better position than me to find out funeral details? You can listen in, and nobody need know that you're there."

"It's complicated," the boy admitted instead, now staring at the wall, but seeming a bit more relaxed about talking to Lancer. Perhaps relaxed was the wrong word, he thought, considering the boy looked more resigned than anything (though Lancer couldn't see any reason why).

"How so?"

"I just… I don't want to cause them any more pain." Noticing Lancer's knowing look, he added, "Just because I'm a ghost! That's all. And they look for ghosts."

Lancer thought this was only part of it, though a significant part non-the-less. "And you want me to find out for you?"

"Yes," the boy agreed vehemently. "I need to know."

"If you want me to get this information," Lancer offered gently, "then I need to know more. It's hardly fair if I don't know anything, is it?" This wasn't his usual sort of logic; however, he was overly curious about this, and half convinced the boy was Daniel Fenton… or at least the ghost of him. Why else would he be so concerned?

The boy looked like he was fighting an internal battle with himself over whether or not to say anything, but desperation for information seemed to win out. "If I tell you," he whispered so quietly that Lancer had to lean in to hear the words, "you have to promise not to tell anybody."

Perhaps it wasn't the best decision, but there wasn't much of a choice if he didn't want the boy to bolt. "I promise," he said, and the boy nodded.

"I don't think there'll be a funeral," he confided, the words coming completely out of the blue.

Lancer blinked, but he had to ask. "Why not?"

There was a pause, and for a moment Lancer didn't think the boy would answer, but then he spoke up, sounding haunted. All the denials about who he was fell apart around him. "Because… _I don't think I'm dead._"


	4. Chapter 4

Phantom of the Fallen: _(by timydamonkey)_

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Author's Notes: Sorry this took so long in coming. Unless this grows again this will be six chapters long - two left. Possibly with an epilogue, I haven't decided yet. I know what's going to happen, it's just getting it down and making it sound credible. Also, a huge thank you to **Luiz4200** for pointing out my rather silly mistake near the end. Fixed now. Enjoy.

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-4-

"…What?" Lancer asked, because the admission didn't make any sense to him. With a deep sigh, he wondered if the boy were in denial, as he was clearly different. As much as a sceptic as Lancer could be, he didn't deny evidence in front of his own eyes.

"I… I… I told you it was complicated, I'm not dead!" The boy seemed to be pleading with him. _Believe me_, he seemed to be trying to say, _please._

"Your disappearing acts suggest otherwise, Fenton." The boy flinched at the name, obviously hoping Lancer wouldn't have realised his desperate slip. He looked upset – Lancer could relate; he felt sorry for the boy.

"You don't understand," Fenton objected. "I can do all that stuff, but I'm not dead. Really. I mean, I don't appear to be dead, and I'm walking, and sometimes I don't _look _dead, and-"

"Fenton," Lancer interrupted, "you are as pale as death." The boy looked bemused at the unintentional pun, but Lancer carried on without reacting. "Not to mention, while you resemble… how you were, at the same time you look different. You're barely recognisable. Not to mention, Manson and Foley saw you die!" This wasn't common knowledge, but the teachers knew. Being privy to such information could be a pain sometimes, but now it actually seemed useful.

"They_thought_ they saw it, but it didn't happen. And they were so upset, and when I opened my eyes they'd gone to get my parents… and everything felt weird… and I was like _this_." He gestured to himself fruitlessly. "And I was scared… I ran away." He flushed in embarrassment and it was a disturbingly human expression.

The boy was obviously in denial. Lancer sighed. It had been a trying day. "You're not thinking logically, Fenton," he tried. Should he even call the boy 'Fenton' anymore? He didn't know the etiquette for talking to ghosts, or if any even existed.

"It's not logical but it's _true!_" Fenton insisted, looking frustrated beyond words that he wasn't 'getting it'. "I can show you."

"There's nothing to show."

The boy gave him a look. "You'll see." The boy closed his eyes, and Lancer sighed once again in resignation – and then something happened to Fenton. There was a bright flash of light and the boy stood in front of him, unscathed, looking the same as he done every day in class as far as Lancer could remember. He stood, gaping.

"I'm not dead," the boy said again defensively.

There was a long pause. "Why have you chosen to tell me this?" The boy wasn't a bad student, but he was hardly the best and they didn't particularly get along any better than any of the other students in his class.

Fenton laughed nervously. "Well, you know what they always say… go to your teachers for advice. And it's not like they have some sort of hotline for people supposed to be dead, do they…?"

"What about your parents?" he asked, genuinely perplexed, then a second later it dawned on him. He felt like an idiot.

"Don't get me wrong," Fenton said, "I have nothing against my parents… but they're ghost hunters. I don't want to be atomised!" And then, "You know, I think it might have been about careers advice… seeing you, I mean… but it's not like I can get a job, can I? I don't want to just sit around doing nothing!"

The boy sounded frustrated. Lancer knew how he felt. "But now that you look as you did," Lancer said, "why don't you go back and let things go back to normal?"

"And say what?" the boy asked scathingly. "'Oh, it wasn't me you saw die, it was my doppelganger I hired for a few days. He disintegrated on impact, sorry for not telling you!'" He snorted, and then took a deep breath. "Sorry. It's just… I can't."

Lancer just managed to refrain from asking 'is that what really happened?'. Pupils' imaginations these days were really running wild.

"Surely there are more plausible explanations," he said, exasperated. "I don't know… you could plead amnesia. I'm sure they'd be happier that you're back rather than how it happened."

"But what if they think I'm a ghost? They still think I died!"

There was another long pause. "Perhaps you'll just have to risk it."

"Maybe I _am_ a ghost," he muttered softly. "A living ghost. Is that possible?" Lancer didn't quite feel up to a philosophical debate, and the boy continued, barely pausing for breath. "So I'd still be a ghost, so I wouldn't be able to go home… when did everything get so complicated? I wish I'd never gone near that stupid portal…"

"Portal?" Lancer asked.

The boy jerked up as if he'd been talking to himself and suddenly realised Lancer was there. "Nothing," he said defensively. It seemed the boy had hit his limit in terms of how much he was going to say. Frankly, Lancer was surprised he'd heard as much as he had. He supposed it was the lack of anybody to turn to…

"Well," began Lancer, but whatever else he was going to say didn't quite make it out when the principal strolled jovially into his room.

"I thought you were talking to somebody – I heard voices," the woman said, his forehead crinkled in confusion. Lancer was confused too and turned around, but Fenton was gone. He worried briefly that for some bizarre reason he'd been hallucinating, but knocked away the thought. He had no reason to. _A living ghost_, the boy had said. Was that even possible?

The principal's voice broke through Lancer's internal chatter and made him focus on the conversation in hand. "I've several enquiries to make…" she began, and Lancer sighed internally.

It had been a long day, and it seemed to have stretched so far ahead of him, there was no end in sight.


	5. Chapter 5

Phantom of the Fallen:

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Author's Notes: I have good and bad news. Bad news: this chapter is really short. Good news: this chapter is short because I split the chapter in two, hence the next chapter is completely written and 1000 words long! After that, all I have left to write is the epilogue, which I am currently writing. What does this mean? It means **I can get back to my update schedule as the story is 95 percent finished!** That's right, no more ridiculous wait, and I can only apologise for it. This will be my first ever completed chapter fic - guess you can see why, huh?

This isn't exactly the way this chapter was supposed to go, but it makes the epilogue more meaningful instead of a formality, so all is good. Also, you can now see why this isn't all that AU - if anything, it is a slot-in.

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-5-

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Lancer." The woman smiled at him wearily.

Lancer nodded to her, feeling somewhat uneasy. He hadn't been overly sure about this, and had no idea what he wanted to say – something about the boy, he supposed. He'd been struck a bit speechless at the fact she was dressed in a strange sort of jumpsuit.

"I felt it would be the right thing to do," he offered, and she nodded.

"It's very thoughtful of you." There was a moment of awkward silence, then, "Would you like a drink?" She offered.

"That would be kind… may I have a coffee?"

They were going through formalities – something Lancer had never been a fan of – and it felt especially wrong in this situation. He supposed what he ought to do was apologise for their loss – but could he do that?

He'd only seen the boy once since the principal had interrupted their conversation. He had appeared with no warning whatsoever, and Lancer hadn't been too happy about that.

"I've got a plan," the boy had said, startling Lancer into almost scalding himself as he took a drink. A pause, and then: "…Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's nice to see a teenager with some positivity for a change," Lancer had remarked, "but before you seemed so sure that nothing would ever work." His look was designed to prompt the boy to explain.

The boy rubbed the back of his head nervously and laughed a little. "Well, the stakes are really high here… and where it's so big, there's always a risk, right? But I think it might work…"

Lancer had looked back at him, concerned, and asked authoritatively, "Just how much _do_ you know about gambling, Fenton?"

He had received a strange look, while the boy said, "It's just an expression, Mr. Lancer!" Before Lancer could reply, he added, "I should go now… there's some stuff I need to work out."

That had been over a week ago, and Lancer was beginning to think that something had gone terribly wrong. The boy had claimed his parents may 'atomise' him – perhaps they had done so? He hoped he wouldn't have to ask; it wouldn't, he decided, be terribly polite. In any case, his concern had prompted him to act – which was why he was currently at the Fenton's house, trying to find the words to explain that their son was… around.

He followed the woman into the kitchen, where a girl sitting at the table started as she saw him. "Mr. Lancer! I didn't know you were coming."

He smiled slightly at her. Jazmine Fenton was a hardworking student, and Lancer always got along better with students who didn't constantly try his patience. "I'm afraid it was an impromptu visit."

The woman came back with the coffee, which he accepted graciously. He took a sip, and then ventured to say, "Mrs. Fenton… about Danny-"

"Please," she interrupted him. "Call me Maddie."

He nodded in acceptance. "Maddie, then. There's something about Danny that you should know-"

"If it's to do with schoolwork, Mr. Lancer, I apologise but I don't think we can take any of it at the moment-"

"That's understandable, Maddie," he said, frustrated by his inability to give her some hope about her son. She'd probably think he'd gone crazy – he'd deduced that nobody else had seen Fenton by the fact nobody had been stuttering about ghost children. He opened his mouth to speak again – wasn't there such a thing as third time lucky? – and was interrupted by a crash from… downstairs?

Jazmine put her head on the table, not looking best pleased at the term of events, while Maddie shot up out of her seat and a voice yelled from below, "_Maddie_!"

"Jack!" she whispered, and ran for a door. Lancer, feeling incredibly confused, stared after her, and tried to decide whether being curious or courteous was the best way to be. His curiosity won over as he followed her – it had sounded as if something serious was going on, and Jazmine didn't try to stop him.


	6. Chapter 6

Phantom of the Fallen:

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Author's Notes: Yeah, I'm updating this early. I felt a little guilty for the long wait. Just the epilogue to come after this.

Little bit of trivia: originally, Lancer wasn't supposed to be here for this (and I think it shows), but this is a Lancer-centric fic and I figured having Lancer missing for a pivotal part of the story just wasn't going to work. After some replanning, this is how it turned out - I think it actually worked out better, to be honest, but there you go. Reviews welcome!

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-6-

Lancer blinked as he entered what was obviously the basement, but also passed for some sort of laboratory.

The man, presumably Jack, was pointing a shaking gun at Fenton – who looked like himself, not the strange white apparition – who was sprawled on the floor in front of what appeared to be a green, swirling vortex. A strange device in his hand was bleeping as he pointed it at the boy, who looked as pale as a ghost (Lancer inwardly berated himself for this pun, but he had no other adequate way to express, internally or externally, how pale the boy looked).

Maddie was shaking too, as she leaned down towards him and asked, "Danny?"

"Mom!"

"You know who I am?" she asked, looking startled.

Fenton stared at her, confused. "Of course I do!" He looked affronted.

"You've kept your mind," she muttered to herself, sounding like she was: both a mother, and a scientist. "You're not malevolent?"

"No!" Fenton stared at her, obviously catching on to whatever his mother was getting at. "I'm… I'm not a ghost!" Lancer stared at him. That was a blatant lie. He wondered if, if Fenton came back to school, he should reprimand him for lying.

The device in the burly man's hand, still pointed at Fenton, had continued beeping. "This says otherwise," he said, looking like he didn't know whether to zap the boy with the gun – which couldn't be normal, it looked too… unusual – or throw it away and hug him.

"Danny, what _happened?_" Maddie asked, her voice wavering as if she was tearful. It was hard to tell with the jumpsuit on.

There was a short pause, and then, "I was going to speak to Sam and Tucker, but then this ghost came and took me into the Ghost Zone," babbled Fenton. "I got away but I couldn't find my way back easily because it's full of… er, ghost stuff… and everywhere's all green and swirly and I don't think they sell maps there," he joked weakly.

Lancer stared. It wasn't that the lie was so unbelievable considering the circumstances, but the fact that Fenton was a terrible liar. He looked spooked and stuttered over words in a manner that it would have been difficult to believe was genuine. He expected something horrible to happen.

"Ectoplasm!" the man shouted, sounding decisive. He wiggled the device in his hand, which he seemed to have done something to for it had stopped beeping, and the boy eyed it warily. "Tracks ectoplasm," he explained, as if it explained everything. Perhaps it did, but Lancer knew very little of ghosts and was simply left feeling deeply confused.

"So if you were in the Ghost Zone…" Maddie continued, but didn't finish the sentence for practically lunging at her son and holding him into a hug. His shoulders shook. "Don't scare me like that again, Danny," she said, so quietly that Lancer had to strain his ears to hear, practically invisible on the bottom step.

"Group hug!" the man, who had, thankfully, put the gun down, yelled and launched at the two of them. It continued for a moment, and then, Fenton said, strained:

"Mom, dad? You're crushing me." They piled off him immediately.

Fenton stood up, grimacing and rubbing his stomach, and then happened to glance to where Lancer stood. "Mr. Lancer!"

The Fentons whirled around and Lancer found himself trying to excuse himself. "I apologise, I thought there might be an intruder down here-"

"It's alright," Maddie said, definitely sounding more than a little tearful now. "Everything's alright, now." There was a pause as the burly man stared at Lancer. Maddie seemed to recognise his unease and said, "Jack, this is Mr. Lancer, Danny's teacher. Mr. Lancer, this is my husband, Jack."

The man enthusiastically pumped his hand. "Hello, Mr. Lancer!"

Maddie, who was clinging to her son as if she'd never let him go again, said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Lancer… our conversation ended prematurely. You were going to say something about Danny?"

The boy noticeably stiffened and stared at Lancer, looking panicked. His conscience fought for a moment with common sense, and he decided that, because Fenton had made the first move, he'd give the boy the benefit of the doubt – he could explain the other half of the secret to his parents in his own time.

He tried to think of what he could say instead of that he had forgotten – what a poor teacher he would be then – or the truth. He put his mind back to the conversation he had had earlier with Maddie.

"It was about schoolwork," he conceded, not at all happy that he was being forced into a situation where lying was the only option… he supposed he couldn't reprimand the boy for it, now. He also felt incredibly uncomfortable calling Fenton 'Danny', but he supposed it was necessary in this instance. "But seeing as Danny seems to be here in one piece, perhaps it would be better discussing it with him." He tried to smile.

Danny, looking momentarily confused, as if wondering when he'd last done work so badly it needed teacher intervention, suddenly grinned. Lancer hoped that meant the boy understood what he had done – and besides, he did still need to talk to the boy.

"Unfortunately, I am afraid I will have to leave now – prior commitments," he said, looking at Maddie, and waving off the starts of an apology over the chaos of the visit. "Will you be able to see me Monday lunchtime, Danny?"

The boy blinked slightly, perhaps surprised Lancer had held him to the meeting, and then nodded. "Sure, Mr. Lancer. Uh, if it's okay with my mom."

She paused, not looking overly fond of her son being out of her sight for a while, but said, "That's fine. Danny, we should go and tell your sister what happened – she hasn't been like herself since you've been gone!"

Lancer felt as if he had been dismissed. He supposed it wasn't intentional – it wasn't every day your son came back from being supposedly dead. It must be a strange feeling.

He seemed to be getting incredibly sentimental lately. Lancer scowled slightly, but he didn't really feel annoyed.

He left the Fenton house that day with lots to think about.


	7. Epilogue

Phantom of the Fallen:

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Author's Notes: This takes place a few weeks after chapter 6. It isn't the Monday meeting - any important points of that are touched on here, plus it gives a better idea of what is going on, being later on.

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-Epilogue-

"_And today many people in Amity Park have been reporting UFO sightings. It has been described by one witness as a 'large, flying, flaming hunk of metal'. Here's a photo sent to us by a Mr. Sanchez-" _

_A picture appeared on the screen, obviously shaky, and the 'UFO' was almost a speck, part of which flared with what appeared to be green fire._

"_Experts say it looks like some sort of debris and that the pictures have been faked. In further baffling news, reports have been filing in about a flying boy who has been identified by Amity Park top ghost hunters, Maddie and Jack Fenton, to be a ghost."_

_Another picture, this time of a boy with white hair, startlingly green eyes and wearing a jumpsuit appeared, staring into the camera, looking surprised and more than a little nervous. _

"_Locals have dubbed this strange being 'Inviso-Bill', notorious for appearing at the scenes of great destruction. Leading ghost hunters believe he may be the source of all of this destruction, while others believe him simply to be an omen of bad luck. He was last sighted around the same area as the supposed UFO, leading concerned citizens to theorise that he was somehow related to this strange sighting-"_

"I never was very photogenic." The voice spoke over the blaring of the television.

Lancer managed to refrain from jumping, recovering slightly and turning down the volume, as he said, "Do you have anything to do with the UFO?"

"UFO? Oh, that wasn't a UFO, that's just Skulker. He's a ghost."

"A metal ghost?"

"He likes to wear armour. He's weird like that."

Lancer frowned. "How many ghosts do you know?"

"A lot. They're kind of crazy… or, y'know, obsessive. Mostly about being the best." He paused. "Ghosts seem to have a lot of ego issues."

Lancer raised an eyebrow. Fenton laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry, thinking aloud."

Lancer nodded. "You haven't told your parents about… all of this."

He shook his head. "I was thinking about it, but they're hunting ghost me… nothing to convince you to keep your mouth shut like people shooting at you. That stuff really hurts." A pause. "I did tell Sam and Tucker, though. The story I told my parents… they were there, they knew it wasn't true. I can't remember what happened all that clearly, but I bet that wasn't what they saw. So I told them. They help me out sometimes; it's nice."

"You're babbling, Fenton."

He laughed, looking slightly embarrassed. "Sorry."

Lancer stared at the boy, and after a minute of silence, decided it was up to him to 'take the plunge'. "Why are you here, Fenton? Now that I am, once more, officially your teacher, perhaps it is unwise for me to be aware of your… extra-curricular activities, as it were."

"I…. I kind of wanted to say thanks. For helping me out. And you did kind of say I could help people… and with all the ghosts popping up…" He gestured at the television.

"And you've decided to do that?"

"I protect this town!" Fenton exclaimed. "That's what I decided to do. The other ghosts… they like chaos too much, and I guess it's like that in the Ghost Zone, but it shouldn't be here. So, I take care of them."

"You fight?"

Fenton grinned nervously. "Students aren't supposed to fight, right?"

That wasn't an answer, thought Lancer. Or perhaps it was, and the confession was in the silence. Lancer didn't approve, but seeing as he'd apparently inspired _something_ out of the boy, he didn't intend to make a fuss about it. "That's right," he affirmed, also saying something without words: don't tell me about it.

"Thanks," the boy said. "And, uh, Mr. Lancer? Sorry if I get my homework in late, this ghost kind of fried it, funny story-" He saw Lancer's face. "-and oops, ghost on the way, I should get going-"

He disappeared – literally, and Lancer assumed the boy had left.

"Fenton," Lancer fumed, for he was sure he'd seen a cheeky smile on the boy's face.

Or maybe he had just imagined it.

* * *

Author's Note: And here it is: my first completed chaptered story. Hooray! Hope you enjoyed the ride. Reviews appreciated.

If you're wondering, _Phantom_ was always meant to be a slot-in to the series: it is an AU in that the series opens differently in Danny's reaction to the portal accident, but, through a different route, it steers itself back to the course of the series. There are minor differences, with Lancer knowing what's going on as he was the first person to really acknowledge Danny and thus bore the brunt of his frustration with the situation, but Lancer isn't wanting to interfere so stories would go similarly to how they originally go. (I explained this far better in a review reply and didn't save it, doh.)

Also: writing news reports is really, really hard.


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